Into a Silk Purse
by Cat Goliath
Summary: Zuko wanted to just bring honor to his family. He didn't expect to go into a secret war, fall for the leading female general, and trying to save the world from a tyrannical rule, and all while dressed as a girl to avoid getting sent home, or worse, killed.
1. Honor to Us All

**Bah! Feeling more and more awful as I somehow find time to write these one-shots, yet still haven't written more for my stories. I'm really sorry, but I hope this was at least somewhat enjoyable. Note to self, no more Zuko in drag pictures. Oh, I own nothing, Avatar the last Airbender belongs to Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko whille Mulan belongs to Disney.**

* * *

Zuko ran as fast as he could to the dressers, his gold eyes shaking in fear as he mentally pictured his mother's hardened gaze and her disapproving frown. Zuko's imagination became reality as he slid into the open room surrounded by other older women, his mother standing in the center.

"Mother, I..." Zuko trailed, bowing his head as his mother, Ursa, simply shook her head.

"There is no need to explain yourself, Zuko. You are already late, nothing will change that," Ursa stated, leading her panting son further into the dresser; where he was bath, scrubbed and lightly clothed. "Stop fussing, Zuko. What will the matchmaker think with your unsightly dirt caked nails? What future bride will appreciate that?" Ursa commented with a grunt as she struggled to keep Zuko submerged within the cooled water as another elder woman tried cleaning the dirt from his toes.

"The water couldn't have been cooler, mother," Zuko shivered, struggling in his mother's hold as other women joined, aiding with cleaning the boy.

"Now if you were here on time, the water would have been much warmer." Ursa chuckled as watered shampoo was dumped atop her son's head, making his long unruly hair fall flat against his forehead.

"Do we really have to have this many women help me with the matchmaker process?"Zuko questioned, spitting out some soap that managed to get in his mouth.

Ursa laughed, handing her son a small glass of water as she started watering off his mass of dark, soapy hair, "Don't let their looks fool you, Zuko. They know what they're doing. And don't worry, they're all taken, so they won't _really_ go after you," Zuko's mother winked, putting a little emphasis on the really. "Let's just say that it's a good thing most of them are near their infertile years and you're soon beginning your manhood years." Zuko could feel his pale face start to flush as he was nudged to get out and dry off, suddenly conscious of the side glances he received. Ursa laughed at her son's embarrassment, unable to hold back any longer.

After donning a light robe, Zuko was ushered to a different building where he would be clothed and cut before sent off to be assessed.

* * *

"What on earth are you doing to my hair?" Zuko shouted as the elder hair cutter sighed.

"This boy, Ursa, so different than his father," the woman muttered, lowering her scissors and pressing the boy's hair flat with some sort of perfumed gel. "He didn't enjoy what I did, but at least he was **silent**," the woman commented, her voice turning suddenly steely, forcing Zuko into compliance, though still rather pouty.

"Well I thought Ozai looked rather handsome, Aunt Wu, and I'm sure Zuko will look just as handsome when you finish with him," Ursa smiled with a light bob of her head to the older steel haired woman.

"Of course your son will look handsome, he carries some pretty good genes," Aunt Wu nodded before pushing the silk donned Zuko out the door and into a line of other male suitors looking to meet with the matchmaker.

* * *

Zuko was nervous, really nervous. He knew he would be paired up with someone, the low male to female ratio demanded that, but Zuko was worried about the woman he may be paired with; what if she didn't like him, what if he didn't like her. Would she be old? Experienced? Young? Barely a child? Zuko felt sick at that very thought, but knew that couldn't happen, not after the female age was raised to eighteen and the men lowered to sixteen. Zuko was a bit more surprised that he himself wasn't already married off, already nearing the cusp of his seventeenth birthday. Surprisingly, it was his mother who held back the matchmaker meeting while his father pushed for the appointment to start once he hit fourteen, giving Zuko exactly two years until marriage.

"Hira'a Zuko," an old gravelly voice called out, breaking Zuko from his inner thoughts, forcing the teen to look up into crazed light green eyes, the right eye shining in almost pure white. "Well just don't stand there, son. Follow me," the matchmaker shouted, his mouth breaking out in a wide grin, showing off his uneven teeth. Zuko nodded slightly, lifting his feet in a quick jog to follow the hunched old man.

"I thank you for meeting with me," Zuko bowed low to the matchmaker, but was cut off in midsentence by a loud snort and snicker.

"So polite, young man, but it's not like I had much choice. I am the matchmaker after all," he laughed ushering Zuko to join him for tea and biscuits. "Now first, recite why our traditions changed to placing men as those who are married off."

"Of course, a hundred years ago an epidemic struck the world, causing most of the males to die off in war, sparing the females because it was viewed that women should stay at home, where they are safe. But because the emperor at the time was a cruel one, housing multiple unnecessary concubines and not even treating them as humans, they prayed to their mother goddess and cursed the land, giving the world a shortage of men, which also reasoned why they died off at war. Now there is an unbalance of men to woman and since women are more valuable, they do not have to be assessed and given off," Zuko finished strongly, his hands tightening around the silk of his pants as the matchmaker simply shrugged and poured two cups of tea.

"Very nice, boy, but no woman would find you interesting if you say it like that, boy. Everyone knows that story; you didn't need to go into **that** much detail." The matchmaker snickered at Zuko's agape expression, watching him bite his lip in order to control whatever was about to fly out of his mouth.

"But I did as I was told, Matchmaker. Shouldn't a husband do as so?" The older man snorted in response before offering Zuko a green rock like food, which Zuko politely declined.

"If you want a **boring** love life. Marriage is about balance, and sometimes one has to fight to find that balance. If you always did as your wife said, or she you, then where is the compromise that will lead to a stronger foundation. Fighting should be avoided, but you should also know when to strike," the matchmaker said cryptically before sinking his teeth into the rock candy, breaking the piece with a satisfactory crack. Zuko scratched his hair in confusion, forgetting about the gel used to hold his hair into the peculiar style. "And another thing boy, your hair. What a ridiculous style you chose, don't you know that style hasn't been used in nearly twenty years?" Zuko slammed his hand down, his cheeks tinting a light pink as the matchmaker rose to his feet, ushering the boy to do the same.

"Now let me get a good look at you. Hm, yes nice eyes, good hair, despite the old unflattering hairstyle. A nice jaw, strong yet boyish, I assume you hold standards when dealing with things yet you don't speak out much," the matchmaker commented, dropping Zuko's now dropped chin. "But too skinny, let's hope your future bride doesn't go for physical appearances. But strong legs, she should appreciate that," the matchmaker mused before taking a step back, his drooping beading clinking with each step. "Alright, now the pants."

"My what?" Zuko sputtered, stepping away from the crazy eyed matchmaker.

"You heard me, boy. Drop your pants."

* * *

**Still internally debating about posting one-shots/drabbles here or just on my tumblr. What do you guys think? Do you care for my one-shots much? Anyways, I guess seeing Zuko in drag too much pushed me to do this. Not a full length story, but there are a few scenes I wanted to write out; like maybe two more. Let me know what you think. I'm really hoping you guessed the matchmaker. Also, sorry if they seemed out of character, never written for Avatar before, so let me know what needs to be worked on. **


	2. Shame

**Part two! I'm having a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you're enjoying it so far. I want to thank those that read and liked it so far. You're far too kind. I own nothing but the time and effort I put into writing this.**

* * *

"Zuko," Ursa sighed for the umpteenth time, "Why did you try to burn Bumi like that? He was just checking the likeliness of the offspring you could provide."

"That man is a pervert, Mother. You didn't see the crazed look he gave me. I had to get out of there; the fire was simply an accident."

"You know, you remind me of Azula," Ursa chuckled before sobering up quickly, a sad tinged covering her bright brown eyes, "She always did like setting things on fire. My little pyromaniac," Ursa turned her head quickly, managing to cover most of her tears, but Zuko still knew the issue of his younger sister's early death still affected his mother so.

"Mother," Zuko trailed before placing a tender hand on her shaking shoulder, "I miss her too," Zuko finished sadly. Ursa tried to hold back her sniffles, desperately trying so hard to appear stronger than she really was.

"Thank you, Zuko. Come, your father should be home soon and dinner is not even close to ready." Ursa quickly brightened up before taking off towards their home, laughing joyfully as she soon tried to keep up with her young son.

With the help of her son, Ursa managed to have dinner finished just as Ozai stepped through the screen door, his long hair pressed and falling down his shoulder's in near perfection.

"Dear, welcome home!" Ursa smiled, pulling out her husband's chair as he haphazardly dumped himself in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "You seem unusually cheerful. Did something happen out in the fields?"

"Just happy to be home, dear. Zuko, place my bag in the closet." With a bow of his head, Zuko took hold of the offered dirt covered bag and moved to put it away, reaching almost out of earshot before his mother's sigh made him falter his steps.

"Must you always do that, Ozai? How is he to be strong if you continue to degrade him as so?" Ursa sighed, setting Ozai a bowl of rice. Ozai simply rolled his eyes in response, taking the bowl curtly.

"I'm only doing what is required of him, dear Ursa," Ozai spat, slamming the bowl down. "Now where is that infuriating boy? Zuko!" Ozai shouted, ignoring his wife's wide-eyed stare. Hearing his father's angered shout, Zuko shoved the bag into the closet as quickly as he could before racing to the dining table, saying apologies to both his mother and father as he quietly took a seat across his mother.

"Enough, let us eat then," Ursa said sternly, putting an end to the talking as she handed Zuko a bowl of rice, which he took delicately, not wanting to upset his mother. Just as they were about to take a bite into their meal, the loud clapping of horse hooves caused Ursa to slam her bowl down and excuse herself from the table. "What could it be now?" Following Ursa curiously, the two remaining family members stepped out of their home, watching as a tall dark skinned horseman entered their little town, his face looking urgent until his blue eyes landed on Ursa.

"Oh thank the spirits. Ursa, I have an urgent message for you," the man said, handing Ursa a scroll with a navy blue ribbon tying the paper together.

Glancing down at the scroll then back up at the man before her, Ursa hastily took the scroll, ushering the horseman towards their home.

"Why don't you come inside, Bato? It's been so long since I've seen you. How are your wife and children," Ursa voiced audibly, taking note of the peering eyes within the town. Remembering where he was, Bato's blue eyes widened slightly as he slid off the tall horse, following Ursa and passing Zuko and Ozai.

"Ah, of course. My wife and children are doing very well. You know her though, even the simplest message is an urgent message," Bato laughed, tying his horse to a nearby pole before following the brown eyed woman.

"Father, do you know of him?" Zuko asked his father as they entered their home. Ozai simply remained silent, his hair bristling slightly at Zuko's question.

"Who your mother associates herself with is of no concern of mine," Ozai gritted before taking a seat at the table and grabbing his cooled bowl of rice. "Well, the rice is already cold now; you can eat now or wait for your mother."

"If it is alright with you, father, I shall wait for mother," Zuko said with a bow, walking off to the direction of his room. In truth though, Zuko had no intention of waiting in his room for his mother to finish talking with the stranger Bato. Instead of turning left to his room, Zuko sneak right, following the hushed sounds of the two adults talking, finding himself at the door of Ursa's waiting room, the quietest room within their whole house.

* * *

"So the empress' life may be in danger once more," Ursa commented, placing the scroll down and turning towards Bato.

"Yes, it would seem as though a coup may be forming to end her life. Unfortunately, we are unsure as to when they plan to strike. Hakoda wanted to send a troop to intersect a meeting point, and then push forward to move closer to Empress Yui. He wanted to see if you would help protect the empress once more. You would be placed within Katara's group," Bato explained, looking at Ursa expectantly.

"So Katara is now following her mother's footsteps. She can't be much older than Azula would be. She's far too young to lead a troop," Ursa said solemnly, toying with her fingers nervously.

"You underestimate her. Katara holds much of Kya's spirit, and her father's stubbornness. She understands the danger and has made herself quite formidable," Bato chuckled, causing Ursa to laugh herself.

"Then I should be in good hands."

"Or perhaps the other way around, Ursa. No one can forget about the White Jade bush. Your story is quite the legend in the tribes. I'm sure Katara would feel honored to have you watching her back," Bato smiled. "You still seem unsure though, I'll leave the scroll here and you can decide on your own if you will join them or not. The troop leaves in three days, please make your decision then," Bato bowed, excusing himself. Hearing Bato's approaching footsteps, Zuko turned to hide, barely reaching a corner before Bato disappeared from sight. When he was sure Bato was gone, Zuko charged into his mother's waiting room, where she sat in silence, jumping slightly at the slam of her door.

* * *

"Zuko! Please, do not slam the door like that, you near gave me a heart attack," Ursa scolded, raising to her feet as she made her way towards the door.

"You can't go, Mother! I won't allow it!" Zuko shouted, making Ursa pause in step.

"**You** won't allow it? And pray-tell, Zuko, why would you not let your mother do as she wishes?" Ursa questioned, clenching her hand into a fist. Zuko visibly gulped in fear, but held his ground.

"I may not understand your past, Mother, but the feat sounds dangerous. You could be killed and how are you to be sure this Katara will watch for your back as well? I don't believe a woman of your age should handle something like this," Zuko tried to reason, his golden eyes begging his mother to deny the invitation.

"A woman of my age? It is an honor to even be considered to do what I am offered! Age has no matter in the subject! Only capability and sheer will determine my **fate**, shame me, believing I am not wise enough to determine if I am capable to help what I believe in. How dare you have such little faith in your mother. If I were to die in battle, then I would have died an honorable death," Ursa spat, clearly upset by her son's words. Zuko recoiled, but still pressed onward.

"I only care of your well-being, mother. What would father say of your disappearance."

"Your father knows his place, Zuko. Do you know yours?" Ursa said coldly, brushing past a stunned Zuko.

* * *

**Thanks again for reading! I'd love to hear some feedback, so if you could leave a review, that'd be great. If not, then thanks for taking the time to read this and I hoped you enjoyed yourself. Sorry for any out of characterness, but I'm still not fully familiar with writing in the Avatar: The last Airbender universe, but I'll try to get better. **


	3. Leaving

**Yay! Part three up and running. Thanks to my lovely beta K. A. Carlyle for beta-ing, it looks a lot better now. I want to thank all of you that reviewed, favorited, followed, or did all three, I wasn't actually expecting all the love, but you all made me into a grinning idiot with all of your kind kind words. Hope I don't disappoint. **

* * *

Zuko kept a close eye on his mother, taking note of her future plans and keeping a certain scroll within sight. Ursa sighed as she placed her bag together, the long green skirt bringing forth forgotten memories, as well as nightmares, into her mind's eyes. She had everything planned, telling Ozai of her trip to her illed friend's home near the tribes, ensuring him that she would be gone for a while for her dear friend was partaking in a troublesome illness. Ursa was sure to never exact a certain date, but knew her husband wouldn't push for more information; his role in society forced him to remain compliant to his wife's wishes and activities.

Unfortunately for Ursa, Zuko may have been a different matter. Ursa was almost completely confident that her son would follow her wishes and keep quiet about the exchange from the other night, but she could sense something strange from Zuko - something she couldn't quite put her finger on - and so decided to not utter a word to her son about her future plans.

* * *

After folding the rest of her armor together, Ursa hesitantly reached for a simple golden fan, one that, from far away, could pass for a high class decoration, but in reality, was a dangerous tool that only a few knew how to use. Ursa watched as the plates clicked down, exposing its fully opened form, and reflected light off its hardened surface. Ursa could feel her feet taking a stance she hadn't taken in years, before she became lost in her little dance, striking an imaginary opponent with the sharpened edges of the metaled fan.

From a crack in the door, Zuko watched his mother move with fluid grace around her waiting room, her arms quick and almost snake-like, until her fan dropped to the ground with a hard thunk. Ursa hissed in pain while clutching her right wrist, shocking both mother and son.

Ursa watched as her fan dropped and a horrible throbbing started up in her wrist. Clutching the pained joint, she massaged the inside vain with her thumb, hoping to add some circulation. Looking to the fallen fan sadly, Ursa picked it up and placed it on top of her clothes, feeling a sudden sense of doubt as the pain began to leave her wrist. Was she too old to fight? She scoffed at the very thought; she didn't need to fight in order to help. Her title, the White Jade bush, came from her lethal poisons, undetectable to everyone until it was too late. No, Ursa could still fight, but it seemed as though her son had different thoughts.

* * *

Once night struck, and the constant sound of his father's snoring began to echo through the hallway, Zuko quietly crept out of bed and moved towards his mother's waiting room. Lightly padding to the wooden closet, Zuko pulled out an old green bag and began rummaging through its contents. With quick, nimble fingers, Zuko pulled on the loose green dress-like attire before slipping on the darker pants. Finishing up with the chest guard and gloves, Zuko completed the ensemble with a small headband: two dangling golden tassels swinging on the outside of his cheeks. Hugging a dagger close to his chest, the dark haired boy uttered a prayer towards the hilt of his dagger, praying for his mother's safety and well-being before placing the small weapon on top of a wooden table, leaving the words '_never give up without a fight'_ facing upwards. Taking hold of the nearly emptied bag, Zuko snuck away from his home, determined to do whatever he could for the woman that gave him life - who actually cared for him - and would eventually be saved by his sacrifice.

* * *

With one last look at his home, Zuko guided his family horse from the stable and climbed up, forcing the stallion into a full gallop, leaving behind the light clack of hooves in their wake.

Hearing the sound of hooves descending, Ursa's light brown eyes snapped open as her head shot upward. Careful not to disturb her partner, she slipped from her bed and slowly left the room, her ears tuned for any out-of-place footsteps until she unconsciously found herself in front of her waiting room. Thinking a bit of security wouldn't hurt, Ursa went to grab for her fan, only to see a glint of silver shining on her table. Upon seeing her son's most precious object, Ursa's eyes widened and her hands shook in fear, dreading what her conscious conjured up. With the dagger clutched tightly in hand, Ursa ran out of the room and past her own, glad her husband was such a heavy sleeper; she didn't try to conceal her footwork as she had before.

"Please, Zuko. Please be here and not doing something as foolish as what I think you've done," Ursa begged, silently praying to the gods that her suspicion was false. Peering into her son's room, Ursa's heart started beating erratically. His bed lay empty. Dreading what she might see next, Ursa ran out once more, leaving the house as she pushed open the horse barn for their only stallion. Ursa dropped to her knees, close to tears, as emptiness greeted her.

"The fool," Ursa cursed, clutching the dagger in hand tightly, "He doesn't understand the danger he's in. Why, Zuko, my son, why? Why bring such worry to your mother when she only wants to ensure your safety?" Ursa sat motionless as the tears started to trickle down her cheeks, leaving her as cold as the light of the moon that shone down behind her. Turning to the bright orb in the sky, Ursa dipped her head solemnly, placing the dagger before her outstretched fingertips almost in offering. "Please, Great Goddess Tui, protect my son. Watch over him in all his brash nature, and bring him home. Ease this mother's worries, and please, _I beg with my life_, protect my son."

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**So, how do you guys think of Ursa? I'm having way too much fun writing her, the possibilities are near endless with her. Thanks for reading and I hope you like. Let me know what you think.**


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